The Satanic Ravine

While out with my wee Hammer this afternoon I noticed the increase in daylight hours for the first time since solstice despite the heavy cloud cover. Winter can smooch my bumpy-boo!

Bumpy-boo is the word the folks used for ass when I was growing up. Fucking cool, eh?

The dog and I visited the Satanic Ravine for the first time in a long while today. It is very close to my home and so named by me because some artistic motherfucking worshipper of the Devil carved wicked eyeballs and a sneer into a tree near the creek down there. It is a dark ravine and after I first saw the carving with my last dog Ranger I considered arming myself before our walks down there. It is dark down there in the ravine. Too dark for the homeless to live. And the hoot of owls can spook you out down there too. Hoo-hoo! Hoo-hoo-hoo!

One time Ranger and I were down there minding our business when we got scared good. It was dark and spooky down there as usual when BAM!! a huge noise just upstream made us both jump some. Investigating, we found a lonesome duck had parachuted through the evergreens into his secret water hole. I did not know ducks could pull that shit until that day.

Another time when Ranger and I were down there trying to interrupt a Satanic Service he ran off into one of the neighbouring yards. A lady shoo'd Ranger out of her yard. She looked like she could have been a coven leader. The smell of animal sacrifices was in the air. We did not go back to the ravine until the witch had moved to a new gingerbread house.

On the way back from the ravine we met up with a group of boys playing road hockey in a cul-de-sac. I asked them, "Who's the best hockey playing country on Earth?" They shouted back, "Canada!" at me. So I asked them, "Who's second best?" They shouted back, "Who fucking cares!" and continued with their game.